Oh. My. Goodness. I saw the Goliath picture and...O.o *blinks* Alek's expression is priceless. I won't reveal more, go see it yourself, you will not stop laughing. Keith Thompson, you never fail to surprise me. THANK YOU! Since I've been reading the theories and comments swirling around westerblog, I have been frantically editing this spoof.

BTW, the chapter title is the actual title of the picture. I ran out of originality a long time ago...

DISCLAIMER: I really, really wish I was Scott Westerfeld, so I'd know what the picture was.

"Maria von Trommler, do you take Dylan Sharp to be your lawful wedded husband?"

"I do." The girl smiled sweetly at Dylan. His mouth twitched nervously, his face slightly pale.

"Dylan Sharp, do you take Maria von Trommler to be your lawful wedded wife?"

"I...er...I—" Suddenly, there was a huge crash as the wall behind the couple exploded. Dylan sighed. "Let me guess," he muttered without turning around. "Alek just crashed into the church in a barking walker. Oh, and he's got his sword thingy."

The smoke cleared, revealing an armored walker. The top popped open and Alek burst out, bearing a gun and, typically, a fencing saber.

"Am I too late?" He looked around at the shocked faces of the wedding guests, and the bride and groom, and the rings not yet on their fingers. "Okay, I'm not. Dylan, I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this." The girl looked angry; however, Dylan seemed slightly...relieved? Alek pointed at the girl. "She's part of a plot by the Germans to assassinate you!"

The girl hissed in anger, and drew a knife from within her bouquet. Alek jumped down and lifted his sword. The two seemed prepared to fight to the death.

. . .

"And this Dummkopf is heir to the throne?" Volger muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"There, there." Dr. Barlow patted his arm sympathetically, smirking slightly. "Alek doesn't realize it's just a play. But," she remarked, looking at the wreckage, "He certainly has made quite an entrance."

*UPDATE* Oh...it was a joke... Anyways, there's a new picture up, and it features BOVRIL! So, I shall create another spoof! (Inspired by the comments on westerblog)

"Count, have you seen my loris?" Dr. Barlow peeked into Volger's stateroom.

"Why would that godless creature be in here?"

"It seems to have taken a liking to you." She walked in, searching the room for any hint of the beast.

Volger looked horrified. "I would hope not— gah, it is here after all!" The loris crawled out of the shadows onto Volger's shoulders, where it proceeded to smile angelically at him.

Dr. Barlow stifled a laugh. "Excuse me, count, but what is that on its face? Now...it looks a tad like you."

The count plucked it off his shoulder and deposited it on the ground. "I do not look like that." he protested, nudging the loris away with the tip of his shoe.

The loris grinned and stroked its face. "Mustache," it said, and giggled.

Gah, did I seriously write husband where I should have written wife? *facepalm* Wow...I'm an idiot.

Answer: I'd say talking Scottie beats extinct thylacine, but it's up to you.

Question: Where do you write your stories when inspiration hits you?

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